


And We Were Left in Your Wake

by MenacingPlatypus



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief, Guilt, M/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MenacingPlatypus/pseuds/MenacingPlatypus
Summary: What loyalty do we owe to those who have passed on?Finan feels Gisela's absence keenly and Hild helps him through.
Relationships: Finan & Hild (The Last Kingdom), Finan/Uhtred of Bebbanburg, Heavily implied Finan/Gisela/Uhtred
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	And We Were Left in Your Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, well I wanted to post a drabbles collection this morning, but wow, writing is slow going the last few days. This piece wasn't part of the line up originally, but there's been a lot of talk about the lovely Gisela this week (you all know who you are) and this came together rather quickly, so here we go. 
> 
> Set shortly after season 3

Grief is a strange thing. It can creep up at the most unexpected moments and steal the breath from your lungs. It is without mercy for when the intensity fades, guilt often comes after it. Finan is brooding on this very subject when Hild finds him at the river’s edge. The sun is beginning its descent and the patch of shade he had collapsed into grows larger and larger. It is the height of summer though and the approaching night helps cool the sweat that has gathered along Finan’s neck from the heat of the day.

Knowing that she doesn’t have to ask, Hild settles down next to him gracefully. She plants her feet together onto the flattened grass with her knees bent and wraps her arms around them. Breathing out deeply, her eyes follow Finan’s down the slow-moving river. Her presence is soothing in itself and Finan glances over at her, but she doesn’t push him to talk which he appreciates. Although, as one of his oldest and dearest friends, Finan thinks perhaps Hild is the only one he can confide in. It has been driving him mad and even if the nun does not have a solution, her sympathetic ear may be enough.

When Gisela was alive, Finan knew his place. Uhtred’s devotion to his wife, even before they were married left no trace of doubt in Finan’s mind, but now that she is gone there is a hole in he and Uhtred's lives. At the worst times it feels as though their grief is a miasma that lingers around Coccham hiding in secret places just waiting to be stumbled upon by the unwitting. Even though it has been barely a year it feels as though a lifetime has passed since Gisela’s death.

Finan knows Uhtred dreams of his beloved wife often and the tortured murmurs of his restless sleep help keep Finan awake during long nights on watch when they must ride out from Coccham. Finan himself had shed tears just a few mornings past when he found a tunic Gisela had sewn for him, one of many over the years, buried in the chests in the Hall. She had endless patience and love and as Finan had traced his fingers gently over the embroidered details added so thoughtfully to the sleeves, the few hot tears that had dripped onto the dark fabric hardly seemed enough to honour such a woman.

As he sits on the riverbank now, Finan says as much to Hild. “It feels strange, to prepare for the summer without her.” His voice is rough with sorrow.

“I know,” Hild agrees softly and Finan thinks of the close friendship the two women had shared over the years as they worked to shape Coccham into a proper home and attempted to make Uhtred and Finan more civilized. “I’ve been thinking of her of late as well.”

Finan swallows and wets his lips. “Can I-“ he starts before cutting himself off abruptly. Hild places a cool hand on his jaw and turns his face back to her. Her eyes are full of compassion and Finan has to close his own as shame nearly overwhelms him. “I miss her everyday, you know that,” he starts haltingly, “and, Jesus, her death nearly broke Uhtred.” Sighing explosively, Finan continues, “I would give anything to bring her back, Hild, truly I would.” He turns his agonized eyes back to the water that slips by oblivious to their pain. Finan doesn’t even know if he can go on. but he suspects it would help, to say it out loud and at least have his shame confirmed by Hild’s condemnation, to know that he is truly going to Hell.

Hild 's life and works revolve around the mortal soul however and she peers into him as she says gently, “It is possible to both miss someone dearly and to be happy in the life you live after they are gone. It does not mean you miss them any less.” She looks at him frankly. “And it does not mean you dishonour their memory.” Finan lets out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure about that?” He asks, with a miserable attempt at a smirk. When Gisela was alive, Finan knew that she came first and he was happy with that, but now that she is gone and Finan has Uhtred’s undivided attention, as much as secrecy will allow, the pleasure of being at the centre of the Dane’s affections binds Finan’s innards into knots. Not that Uhtred’s affections were lacking when the three of them shared a bed, but ebb and flow of their relationship had been much different.

In his mind’s eye, Finan can see Gisela naked as the day she was born stretched out on her side, hand tracing slow, restless patterns on the sheets as she watches Uhtred and Finan devour each other. He can see her straddling Uhtred’s lap, eyes glazed as the Dane takes her nipple into his mouth, her hand reaching out for Finan. And he can see her, smiling slyly at him as they tease Uhtred over the dinner table with the children laughing alongside them.

She was their sun. 

A lump grows in Finan’s throat and he bows his head. Hild releases her hands and wraps an arm around Finan’s slumped shoulders. She presses her lips to Finan’s shoulder and murmurs, “I am sure of few things in this life, Finan. I am sure of our Lord and of Uhtred, and,” she says, forcing him to look at her once again with a firm hand, “I am sure of you.” Finan breathes out slowly. “Enjoy your time with him, Finan,” her expression takes a slightly mischievous cast, “the way you two caper around, neither of you will see death in your old age bed.”

Finan gives a snort of laughter and rubs the moisture from his eyes with the heels of his hands as Hild leans back fully smiling at him now. “Ah, you’re not wrong there, sister,” he says hoarsely. Thinking on her words, Finan nods and takes Hild’s hand between his own.

“Uhtred is not right very often,” he begins with a half smile, “but you truly are too good a woman for God alone.” 

Hild huffs and rolls her eyes even as her free hand moves to their joined ones. “Love is what keeps us strong, you foolish man, and loving Uhtred as you do will be what honours Gisela’s memory.” Kissing the back of her hand, Finan takes a deep breath and can feel the crushing burden beginning to lift, at least a little. They sit like that, peacefully, for many moments until Finan can hear a rustling in the bushes behind them.

Sihtric pops through the undergrowth just as Finan turns with a hand moving swiftly to the knife at his side. “I knew it!” Sihtric exclaims, gesturing rudely at Finan when he sees them. “Work to be done and where is Finan, we ask?” The younger Dane blinks as he takes in Finan and Hild’s joined hands. A brief flicker of uncertainty flashes across Sihtric's face, but Finan stands quickly reaching a hand down to help Hild up.

“Having trouble figuring out which way to dig a trench, eh? I’ll give you a hint,” Finan shoots back, pointing his finger to the ground. Sihtric’s momentary concern disappears at the Irishman’s goading and he reaches out to slap at Finan’s hand. Dancing away, Finan throws a few more insults in Sihtric’s direction and Hild just shakes her head at their antics.

“Honestly, boys,” she tuts, edging around their play fighting towards the path back to the village. They crash through the brush behind her and come up on either side. Looping one of her arms through each of theirs, Finan leans in to tilt his head against the side of hers.

“You’re stuck with us now, abbess. You have the good Lord to thank for that,” he ends cheekily as Sihtric snickers on her other side. Hild is readying a scathing reply, no doubt, when Uhtred appears at the turn in the trail. At the sight of the three of them, Finan and Sihtric laughing and Hild mid-scold, a bright smile illuminates their lord’s face and Finan feels the breath catch in his chest. Hild is right, of course, Gisela lived to love her family and she would have been the first to cuff Finan for his foolishness.

“I didn’t realize tormenting the good nuns of Coccham was such an important step in the building of palisades,” Uhtred says, grinning even wider as he nears them.

“Oh please,” Hild says, exasperated. “You’re worse than these two put together.” Uhtred’s eyes widen comically as he presses a hand to his chest.

“Abbess Hild, you cannot possibly-“ Waving him off, Hild shakes free of the men and walks ahead.

With one last scathing look over her shoulder she chides them, saying , “Surely between the three of you _some_ work could be accomplished today.”

"Doesn’t really seem likely now, does it, boys?” Finan quips as the three men walk casually behind the abbess.

“Not at this pace,” Sihtric agrees, nodding seriously.

Uhtred chuckles and says, “Best let Osferth know he’s going to be digging all on his own for rest of the evening.”

“Happy to,” Sihtric says with a grin, taking off at a trot. Uhtred and Finan both smile when Sihtric pinches at Hild’s elbow as he darts by. Uhtred slows and Finan shortens his pace to match his lord. The abbess turns the corner before them and once she’s disappeared from their view, Uhtred slips an arm around Finan’s waist.

“Everything alright?” Uhtred asks simply, eyes looking ahead for villagers stumbling through the wooded area. They are still ways from the village though, the very reason Finan chose this spot. He can hear a faint note of concern in Uhtred’s low voice and it sends a warm tendril down Finan’s spine.

“Nothing to worry your pretty head over,” Finan replies evenly, leaning into Uhtred’s side and enjoying the press of the other man’s solid fingers where they grip Finan’s hip. Uhtred accepts his answer with a nod. The Dane has often gone to Hild for support, Finan knows, and Uhtred respects Finan’s privacy. Instead of questioning him, Uhtred stops and turns into the Irishman.

“What are the chances the work will be finished if we don’t return?” The Dane asks with a sigh, gripping both of Finan’s hips as he brushes his nose across Uhtred’s cheek.

“Who cares,” Finan mutters, his lips finding Uhtred’s and the demanding kiss ends all discussion for a moment. A hint of guilt still remains in Finan’s gut, but he remembers Hild’s words and tries only to feel the heat and passion of Uhtred’s embrace. For surely, if anyone could understand Finan’s complete infatuation with Uhtred, it would be Gisela. “You know,” Finan gasps out as Uhtred’s lips move to worship the sensitive skin under Finan’s ear, “there is a very discrete patch of grass not far from here.”

Uhtred’s laugh fills the space between them and with the joyous sound Finan’s heart swells.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Apologies for any errors.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
